The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1887-01-06

but he greeted me with tho old-time
cordially. The brougham cushion.
were heavily cented with heliotrope, a
large crest-a lion couchant-was EN-.
broidered everywhere. There were
two men on the box. One of them, q
short, stout. red-whiskered parsonage.
in brown coat, came down and spoke
to Mr.. Atkinson.
You will not mind seeing to Mr..
Fitzpatrick's baggage. will you, Ludo-
vic? You'll sec his name on the bags
Mr.: Gerald Fitzpatrick"
The man turned his rudy face to-
ward me, and smiled out of pair Of
the most shrewd and humorous ewes
ever saw.
''Sure, sir, you're an Irshman; you
have the look Of it; and an Irish gen.
tlcman. too"
I'm very near to being an Irish
man, said laughing. Il was born
there fifty years ago."
The man laughed.
you're dry one." he SAID, tipping
his hat; you don't look to be go"
'l'm glad Ludovic has taken a fan
cy to you,' he said, sinking back in his
seat; sometimes he dislikes people,
and it's hard for us all.''
looked at him in surprise. Mr..
Atkinson's manner to his employees at
the factory was percmptory in tho ex-
IRENE, too much so, l had thought.
What had wrought this softness?'
isn't hats-his-name a servant?''
Mr.. Atkinson started, as if afraid
that some one would hear him. '.Oh,
we don't talk of him that way. He's
the butler. you know. He does pretty
much what he pleases though. Some
times he wants to drive, and of course
l let him. Mrs. Atkinson imported
him. He is very expensive, but he
keeps us up to the mark, you know.
lie knows everything that we don't
know. Between ourselves, I wish l
was dead. I'm not fit for this sort of
thing. nearly disgraced myself yes
terday, when we had Ex-Governor jim
jams to dine with us, by asking for
beer with the soup. Mary Ann-Mrs.
Atkinson-would have tainted if Ludo-
vic had not brought the sherry and
pretended not to have understood me.
Homer Mr.. Atkinson called out, as
Ludovic climbed on to the box.
'Ludovic seems to have taken fam
cy to you,' said my friend. 'Pm glad
he has. 1t would drive Mrs. Atkinson
intellectually nsad-to have him leave,
now that we're expecting Sir Boyle
Roche"
''Who's Sir Boyle Roche?''
"Oh, a young Irish baronet, whose
rents have been prc-emptcd by the
home-rulers. and he's over here. Clara
met him il town and he and she rath1
like each other. Mrs. Atkinson's set
on the match. No, no, please don't
smoke; Ludovic doesn't like it; it
scents the cushions"
What next? thought.
Clarissa and Jennie looked very
pretty at dinner under the pink glow
of the candle shades. Their white
gowns just touched with glow that
bon silcne roses give, fitted them to per-
lection. Itook Mrs. Atkinson, bustlinc
in red satin, into the dining room.
There was no other guest Sir Boyle
Roche was not to come for a week,
and the Marquis de Creve-Commont of
the French legation had previous en-
gagement. Ludovic in livery per-
formed his duties solemnly and man.
aged the other servants with extreme
haughtiness.
''Thcy 'oiU gobble their food" he
whispered behind my chair. ''There's
no teaching them not to do that. The
old mans regular racehorsc for bolt
ing his victuals.'
Clarlssa had improved. She was
simple and unruff1ed. But Jennie had
become insutferable. Counts and count
esses, lords and ladies floated backward
and forward between her mother and
her: The conversation had such an ex-
cesslvely aristocratic flavor that MI.
! Atklnson's "reminiscences, apropos of
the punch, about the way his father
started in the junk business had the ef-
feet of a chill. which Mrs. Atkinson
partially removed by asking for the
prairie chickens which Capt. Caven-
dish, her majesty's guards, travelling in
the States" had sent.
They were spoiled, ma am," said
Ludovic. shortly.
No more was said. although Mr..
Atkinson opened his mouth as if to ex-
press incrcdulity.
When Ludovic had left the room
Mrs. Atkinson looked severely toward
her lord. You must not aggravate
Ludovic by contradicting him. He al
most gave warning yesterday when
Clarissa asked him to bring in the ten
mis- set. A butler never does that"
I've never been used to buffers"
said Clarissa, laughing. $50 l don't
know. But it seems to me that
Ludovic is more the master of this
house than papa isl
Hush" whispered Mrs. Atkinson,
as the naughty mental entered. I'VE
pay him an awful price, she whisper
ed to me. Hes always threatening to
leave and go back. I'd let him 90 if
l could give a dinner without him."
murnl'red the poor woman, looking
really worried.
Clarissa was very gentle; she showed
ME the grounds and talked a great deal
of Sir Boyle Roche. Once or twice she
called him Edward. Then she colored
and was quiet. She seldom spoke of
him except when we were alone.
asked if he were related to the famous
Sir BOYLE. She launched and said IN